


The Neighborhood Vlogger and the Skeletons

by moonkissed_norwegian



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: All of the skeletons are taller than the Reader, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fear me sister, Fluff, M/M, Memes, Mild Swearing, New nicknames for the Skeletons, Please ask if you want to use these nicknames!, Reverse Harem, Reverse Harem AU, Will add more tags and characters with updates!, Youtuber! Reader, haha - Freeform, vlog, vlogging - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:07:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24498421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonkissed_norwegian/pseuds/moonkissed_norwegian
Summary: Hi! Thanks for checking out my channel! I'm the Neighborhood Vlogger and this is where I post videos about my life. Hope you enjoy your stay! <3(You recently move into a new neighborhood to hopefully spruce up your vlogs with more comedy, action, and pretty scenery. You didn't intend on accidentally moving to a neighborhood filled with skeletons, but that's exactly what happened. They seem full of good photo-ops, though, so ... let's just roll with it!)
Relationships: Papyrus (Fellswap)/Reader, Papyrus (Horrortale)/Reader, Papyrus (Underswap)/Reader, Papyrus (Undertale)/Reader, Papyrus (underfell)/reader, Sans (Fellswap)/Reader, Sans (Horrortale)/Reader, Sans (Underfell)/Reader, Sans (Underswap)/Reader, Sans (Undertale)/Reader
Comments: 46
Kudos: 95





	1. New Digs, Guys (Fossils Definitely Included)😱 😱 😱

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Skeleton Squatters and the Landlady](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9816140) by [Tyrant_Tortoise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyrant_Tortoise/pseuds/Tyrant_Tortoise). 



> Here is a guide to the new nicknames: 
> 
> Sans (Undertale) - Creampuff  
> Papyrus (Undertale) - Cheesepuff  
> Sans (Underswap) - Sunny  
> Papyrus (Underswap) - Crush  
> Sans (Horrortale) - Rudolph   
> Papyrus (Horrortale) - Remy  
> Sans (Underfell) - Russet  
> Papyrus (Underfell) - Blaise  
> Sans (Fellswap) - Onyx  
> Papyrus (Fellswap) - Dodger
> 
> Also, here is my Tumblr:   
> \- [My Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/sabelisajacques)  
> 

**_Click._ **

This richer neighborhood was anything short of an elongated cul-de-sac. Apartments dotted the opening, then they filtered out into narrow townhouses with small, squared yards pressed together all down both the sides and finally bottomed out into multiple houses that looked like they could almost be mansions. In a way, it really resembled a high-end European village - which, as your camera casually slid along the long row of houses before panning up to the sky, brought a goofy grin dashing across your cheeks. 

Your camera winked, momentarily flushed out by the sudden change in lighting before it adjusted, but captured the beautiful baby blues skies. A multitude of cirrus clouds flounced above, speedily racing along with the gushing breezes that came from such crisp, spring afternoons. The sun was lemon yellow, its rays filtering through the billows and reflecting along the sidewalks and asphalt. It was almost magical, watching the myriad of colors dance along with the earth as the camera shifted and focused on one of the houses planted in the juncture between townhomes and mansions. 

"And _that_ , is my new home, guys," there was mirth laced through your tone, a hidden excitement bubbling in your words as the camera zoomed in dramatically.

It was one of the smaller mansions, but still large enough to sport a few bedrooms and a couple of bathrooms. The exterior was boxy, most of the shapes rectangular with sharp edges and modern architecture; painted a sandy yellow with earthy brown accents, stone columns sporting the awning of the porch complete with the sides closest to the front textured a stucco. The design was reminiscent of many of the homes on the west coast, but with more of a homey feel. 

"Yeah, so, it was one of the cheapest homes here because _wow_ YouTube does _not_ pay me enough to afford even the house right next to it," your index finger poked into view and vaguely wiggled in the direction of the other houses, "but whatever. I came to this place because, strangely enough, there's hardly anyone living here."

Actually, _that_ was the sole reason you were able to afford the house. Prices significantly plummeted in this area about a year ago, which had confused the ever-loving hell out of you whenever you were house-searching, but you didn't have enough money saved up to be able to move at the time. You'd been wanting to move to a more residential area in the hopes that it would add some more interest to your shots _and_ supply more things to do for entertainment; thus, this was the perfect opportunity. 

"Apparently there are rumors of a certain _kind_ of people living here - bruh, like, even the realtors were giving me tons of warnings," the camera then started zooming in and out repeatedly as you fired off your next words," but I accept _all_ people so, of course, I didn't care a single bit. If anything, that'll just make the move all the more pleasant."

You had been excited at the prospect of making some new friends during the move since that would be more people to involve in your skits and vlogs to help boost the comedy and liveliness, _also_ you wanted to spite all of the people that were being hateful of those already living in the neighborhood. Bigotry was one of your most _hated_ things, ever. 

"Well, enough about those losers," you wheezed, panning the camera down to the ground to catch your burgundy converse in the shot. "I'm gonna go meet all the neighbors, then maybe a house-tour? Eh, I'll figure it out later. Be right back." 

**_Click._ **

The camera's lens fluttered shut, then you haphazardly draped the strap around your neck and allowed your arms to limply dangle by your sides. You definitely weren't going to film meeting your neighbors; it was downright rude, would probably leave a horrible first impression, and could possibly make them feel targeted. If you hoped to befriend them, then you've got to be nothing but straight-up _sugoi_ and bomb. Smirking, smoothly brushing your hair back before stepping forth, you began trekking towards the house directly next to yours. 

You could tell that there were only about five other of the mansions occupied by the vehicles parked in the drive-ways, but that didn't mean there weren't more who just weren't home at the moment. Later into the evening, when most people left work and headed home, you'd see how many more lived here. For now, however, you'd just meet the ones currently home. 

The camera thumped against your chest with each step, which you swore might have been your accelerated heart-rate. Meeting new people wasn't really that bad for you, but sometimes when you faced the unknown, anxiety started nibbling at the edges of your confidence. You've more or less learned to control it; your career as a vlogger stomping out any dregs of any other personality traits besides the ones that accompanied _edgy_ and _comedic._ But - right now - walking up the steps to your neighbor's porch, you couldn't help but feel that familiar thrush of sudden breathlessness and compression. 

Maybe you would be bothering them, interrupting something important? 

_No,_ you shook your head, _you're just meeting your neighbors._ It's polite, they'll more than likely enjoy knowing who they're living beside and will appreciate the kindness. You halted just a stride from the door, fist balled and poised in the air to knock, and swallowed hard. 

_Just_ do _it. It's going to be all right, just knock._

Steeling yourself, your iconic grin plastered across your features again, your knuckles met the door and rapped. 

You braced yourself for the unknown; you didn't know who you'd be meeting and maybe these people wouldn't be as pleasant as you hoped. A 'COMING!' resounded from inside, but it was drowned out by the pounding in your eardrums. Your palms were slicked in sweat, your brow furrowed from strain as you waited an agonizingly few more seconds for the door to open, and started nervously tapping your foot against the wooden deck. Thundering footsteps waltzed through the home so loudly that your eyes gradually widened at each step, so you tried to focus on wiping the sweat off of your palms and onto your clothes. It's just new neighbors, just a simple greeting. It's probably just going to be another family and there's nothing ... to ... fear. 

The door was nearly ripped off its hinges. 

"HELLO!" A tenor voice bellowed out, a proud and gallant timber to his tone that made him sound chipper and upbeat, "AH, A NEW NEIGHBOR, I ASSUME? OR ARE YOU A DOOR-TO-DOOR SALESMAN? IF THE LAST ONE IS TRUE, THEN I CAN ASSURE YOU THAT WE WOULD _NOT_ LIKE TO TRY YOUR PRODUCT! OR, AT LEAST, THAT'S WHAT SANS TOLD ME TO SAY." 

Oh. 

Oh, wow!

Your next-door neighbor was a skeleton; a monster, to be exact. Their kind had resurfaced just a few years ago, springing through the Barrier from their Underground prison. Many people had been terrified, afraid that the end of times was near, until the monsters proved that they were all pacifist and only sought out a quality life on the Surface. You remembered watching all the news sources, saw all of the rioting and protests against the monsters - but you hadn't been afraid. It just added some spice to life, meaning that there was a change coming. You were excited. 

But, seeing this extremely tall skeleton glancing down at you from several feet higher than you, now you understood what the realtors had meant. The kind of people living in this neighborhood were _monsters._ That's fine, though! You didn't care; these people might make your videos even more lively with that magic of theirs - if they wanted to be friends, of course. 

Your grin tweaked back up, your eyes crinkling closed, and your hand lifted to enthusiastically wave. 

"Hey, yes! I am your new neighbor," you chuckled, lowering your hand. "I just came over to introduce myself so that you know who you're living beside." Your eyelids fluttered open, irises now trailing up and down this skeleton's frame to examine his appearance. 

He - or, at least, you assumed it was a 'he' due to the sound of his voice - was wearing a beige, crop-top t-shirt over a black long-sleeve with a pair of high-waisted, corduroy pants. His feet adorned a pair of black Nikes and his hands sported a pair of red gloves, complete with a crimson scarf wrapped around his neck. 

_Cute,_ you off-handedly mused. 

"I KNEW IT! I THOUGHT I SAW A MOVING TRUCK YESTERDAY; HOW EXCITING!" his hands clapped together excitedly, "I AM THE _GREAT_ PAPYRUS. IT'S VERY NICE TO MEET YOU!" Then, his right hand was thrust forward in an offer. You smiled graciously while accepting it, feeling him literally flail your hand up and down very happily. His skull was long, but with soft features that crinkled and shined with the dashing smile twinkling against his teeth. There was a tangerine orange blush flushing across the apples of his face, a few freckles of the same hue dotting along the ridge of his nasal cavity. 

"It's nice to meet you, too," you tried to greet back with just as much enthusiasm. _All right, pretty good so far. If he was in my vlogs, the fans would love him._ "You mentioned a 'Sans'? Is he here, too? I'd loved to go ahead and meet everyone on this go-around." You didn't want to sound too eager, but it's better to meet everyone now than later. Plus, if this 'Sans' was just as energetic and happy-go-lucky as Papyrus, then that would _totally_ double the ratings. Also, they'd probably be cool to be friends with. 

"oh, you wanted to meet sans? lemme go get 'im." 

Your eyes ever so casually slid over to the left to where the location of the baritone voice stood, eyes bulging wide. There, standing a good bit above you and slouched with his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets, was another skeleton. He was rounder, thicker than his tall and lanky roommate, with more circular features. His parka was a cobalt blue, with a grey hood; he wore a creme-colored turtleneck, a pair of black skinny jeans with a pair of black basketball shorts over them that had a white stripe down both sides. To complete his look, he wore a pair of white, fuzzy socks, and pink, fluffy slippers. 

You, of course, could have reacted like any other _normal_ person at being momentarily started; however, ... 

"Ahhh!"

"AHHHH!" 

"ahhh!" 

_Sans,_ you assume, was pointing towards himself while you and Papyrus pointed at him. 

"BROTHER, HOW LONG HAVE YOU JUST BEEN STANDING THERE?" Papyrus' eye-sockets were bulging, a pair of eye-lights now flickering to life within the deep abysses. He placed both of his hands on his hips, eye-sockets narrowing as he glared at Sans. You couldn't help the slight shoulder bounce and the huff of air that escaped you; bless, there's another comedian in the neighborhood. 

"'standing' is a strong word, but only a couple of seconds," Sans shrugged, "i heard the door open." Papyrus continued to glare for just a moment longer before he heaved a tired sigh, shook his skull, and refocused his attention on you. 

"I DEEPLY APOLOGIZE THAT YOU HAD TO SEE MY BROTHER STANDING," Papyrus attempted an apology, but you held both of your hands palm-up and shrugged. The two were brothers, which answered their strange dynamic. 

"Um, nah, you don't have to apologize," you started off quickly, feeling the words roll off your tongue, "I actually kind of thought it was funny." 

"OH, WELL, HE LIKES TO _THINK_ HE'S FUNNY," Papyrus then reared his fist back as if he was going to punch Sans, but loosened the grip and let the arm go lax. He composed himself again, the slight frown that had been ticking down the edges of his mouth now perking up, "WHATEVER - SANS' TOOMFOOLERY ASIDE, WOULD YOU PERHAPS LIKE TO COME INSIDE FOR A DRINK OR A LIGHT SNACK?" Instantly, your brows darted up to your forehead and you giggled, feeling your heart swell in your chest. Aw, this guy was an absolute sweetheart! 

"As much as I appreciate the offer," you began softly, feeling almost guilty at turning the tempting offer down, "I wanted to finish my round on the neighborhood with meeting the others, but maybe some other time?" Whenever Papyrus' posture momentarily faltered, you couldn't help the sudden urge to just brush aside meeting the others so that you _could_ join them. No, stay strong! This is important for a good stay here and, possibly, your YouTube channel. 

"THAT'S A SHAME! BUT I'M SURE THE OTHERS WILL LIKE YOU," he spoke as if he knew them personally, "THEY'RE ALL _INCREDIBLE_ IN THEIR OWN _SPECIAL_ WAYS." Your grin sparked back to life, feeling better that Papyrus recovered so quickly and immediately chirped back to life. It also made you feel better that he was trying to assure you of the other people in the neighborhood; you'd definitely have to come to visit him some other time. 

"Thank you very much," you returned with as much bravado, waving to both of the brothers as you pivoted around on your heel to leave, "I'll see you around!" 

Papyrus waved with his whole body and Sans just flashed some finger-guns, stepping back into the house while you stepped off their property.

**_Click._ **

"Wow, okay, guys, I just unraveled the mystery behind the touchy real-estate agents - just said hello to a couple a skeleton dudes. But, oh my, God, they both seem _sooo_ nice," you exaggerated your words by clenching your fingers in and rolling your eyes up. "They came out the door offering snacks and gaffs, I'm actually kind of sad that I couldn't stay longer." The camera then stopped jerking, which meant that you had halted. Your brows were furrowed together and you grimaced, glaring straight into the camera lens. 

"Man, lemme just take a moment to say _fuck_ prejudices against monsters. Even if this whole place is filled with them, I'm sure they're going to be as cool and agreeable as these dudes," you sighed, shook your head, and looked ahead again, "Anyway, next house. Next house. I wonder what these guys are going to be like!" Then, with a sly smirk dancing across your lips, you tossed a saucy wink towards the camera. 

"You guys think I can get some free food from this house, too? Finna' have a full potluck here." You chuckled, shuffling a bit as the camera was flipped around and focused on the mansion beside the one you just visited - zooming in and out exactly eight times. 

**_Click._ **

This time, when you strode for the front door, you weren't nearly as nervous. Hope actually prickled goosebumps across your skin, having to actually suppress the shudder of nerves that tickled through you. The house's exterior was just as nice as the other one, but you noticed that there were little taco decorations plastered to the door. Deadpanning, deciding to ignore that, your index finger lurched forward and rang the doorbell. 

All was silent for exactly zero point eight seconds; then, a clattering; then, pounding footsteps; then, a screech; and, finally, 

"HELLO! I WASN'T EXPECTING ANY COMPANY, SO YOU'LL NOTICE THAT I AM ACTUALLY WEARING MY FAVORITE 'KISS THE CHEF' APRON, BUT PLEASE, RESIST TEMPTATION AND DO _NOT_ KISS THE CHEF!" After blinking a couple of times and wiping the shock off your features, your eyes refocused and settled on ... Sans? 

"Hey, are you guys punking me? You got over here pretty fast," though Sans was standing in front of you, you noticed that there were a few things different. For one, his features suddenly looked even rounder than they did a few moments ago and his eye-lights were no longer two white orbs. There was a pair of arctic blue circles encompassing a pair of larger, bumblebee yellow stars skirted by a multitude of miniature marigold ones. It was such a pretty and entrancing sight that your words died on your tongue, caught up in how they flickered from your left eye to your right eye several times in confusion. 

Sans now adorned a slightly baggy, grey sweater that was rolled up to the elbows, tucked into a pair of black jeans. Blue gloves with yellow rims covered his hands, matching the color of his socks, and a giant bow that same exact shade wrapped around his neck very much like a bandana before trailing over his shoulders and down his back. You noticed the apron had a couple of fresh grease splatters spittled in a few areas, plus the smell of meat cooking and sizzling against a pan wafted through the air and out to where you stood. One of your brows arched, leveling Sans with a slightly unamused stare as he blinked animatedly. 

"WELL, YES! THE KITCHEN IS ONLY A FEW ROOMS OVER," he responded, a hint of concern laced through his tone. His voice was just as deep, but now it has the gusto in it that reminded you of Papyrus. Huh, weird. 

"No, what I mean is that you're wearing a completely different outfit in a completely different house - plus, you're somehow now cooking!" Sans gasped, making a strange expression with his twisted features, and dropped his mandible to start rattling off something before a new voice joined the conversation. 

"oh, i understand this issue," another lanky skeleton strolled up like he was going to the movies and planted both hands on his hips, one leg cocked. It was ... Papyrus? Except, instead of the outfit he _had_ been wearing, he was now wearing a pair of brown cargo shorts and a Doctor Who t-shirt. His look was finished with a carrot orange hoodie tied around the waist and a pair of converse of the same shade left untied. His skull looked even _softer_ now; his cheekbones rounder and smoothing into his mandibles greatly, his sockets hooded with a hazy orange lid. This Papyrus sounded a lot quieter, reminding you of Sans' other voice.

You blinked. 

Then you waited. Waited. _And_ waited. And then he just sticks his hand out.

"the name's crush, kid," you flinched back involuntarily, thoroughly shook, "woah, what's the matter? you act like i was gonna _crush_ ya." 

You started sputtering, "W-Was that supposed to be a pun? It's literally _not_ clever if you just use the same word!" The two of them _just_ stared. 

"Uh, whatever," you sighed and shook your head lightly, "didn't I just see you guys, though? Like in the other house with different clothes and swapped aesthetics?" At this, the two of them had a brief look of recognition flash across their faces. The Sans blinked his saucer-like eyes and rubbed his hands together nervously while Crush just sagged in defeat. 

"OH, YOU MEAN SANS AND PAPYRUS, RIGHT? WE'RE CRUSH AND SUNNY," he squeaked out, voice cracking a bit, "THEY'RE OUR ... OUR ... OUR, UM -" 

"Siblings? Twins?" you offered. 

"in a manner of speaking," Crush shrugged, a small smirk curving his teeth. You blinked. What does that mean?

"Wha - What do you mean by that? Do you guys only share one parent; like, brothers from another mother?" Crush's explanation didn't soothe the headache pounding at your temples, but you were going to get them to clarify. There was something happening here ... right?

"in a manner of speaking."

"IN A MANNER OF SPEAKING," they both said in unison. _Well, that didn't clarify anything and now I'm slightly uncomfortable._ Instead of saying that out loud, though, you just respectfully nodded your head. 

" _Okay,_ well, I just wanted to drop in and meet my new neighbors to get to know you guys better," your words fizzled out because, honestly, you really wanted to leave, "so, uh, I guess I'll just head to the other houses, then." Crush and Sunny blinked in unison again, but you noticed that Sunny's bright smile etched back onto his mouth and Crush's smirk only grew. 

"later, human," Crush sluggishly waved. 

**_Click._ **

"BYE! BYE! BYE! BYE! BYE! BYE! BYE! - "

"Well, as you guys can tell, just got done with the second house," you smacked your lips together distastefully, "This one was kind of weird, not gonna lie. The people that lived here were another set of skeletons that looked exactly like the first ones. They ... kind of told me that they were siblings to Sans and Papyrus? But, like, they were all awkward about it? I don't know, maybe there's some sibling shame going on or some family feud I don't wanna know about." You paused, lifting a brow and thoughtfully stroking your chin. 

"Hmm, or maybe that can make for a cool video? IDK," you blinked away the sudden thousand-yard stare from your clouded eyes and shrugged, "Meh, I guess that wasn't that bad - aside from the implication that skeletons can carry _four_ babies at once." There was a momentary pause, then the camera started shaking and a red filter slowly faded onto the footage. 

"Ah, well, on to the next house!" 

_**Click.** _

You, honestly, didn't want to knock on the door. However, you had set out to meet your new neighbors and that's exactly what you were planning on doing - weird family feuds be damned! Plus, it couldn't be all that bad. Even though the last family of monsters was really awkward, that was it. Just _really_ awkward. 

So, inhaling and exhaling deeply, you tried to make your steps as light as possible to minimize the sound you made as you stalked up the porch. The idea of this family hearing your arrival before you even knocked and then be expecting you wasn't really something you thought you could currently handle, so being stealthy was your best bet. When you paused in front of their slightly chipped door with the giant wreath that had a bone-shaped dog treat in the middle, you, once again, took another calming breath. It's not like there can be any more of the weird skeletons; Crush and Sunny didn't mention have any other 'siblings', so that meant this family was probably absolutely _not_ related. 

Feeling that give you the strength to lift your fist to knock, you smiled despite the tension in your shoulders and clung 'shave-and-a-haircut-two-bits' on the surface. 

_"MY NETI POT!"_

Your face lost all traces of a smile. 

The door opened as the sound of a rampaging thunderstorm pounded down several flights of stairs, but there was already someone waiting there. You deadpanned; it was ... another ... _skeleton._ You would have pivoted around and immediately bolted away had a blinding black shadow not flashed across the threshold and trampled the other skeleton to the ground, emitting a cry of victory while the one face down on the floor released a groan of anguish. 

"YOU! HUMAN DELIVERY MAN," his voice was just as deep as ... as ... as Sans', but with a voice that barked authority and demanded attention, "WHERE IS MY NETI POT? HAVE YOU PERHAPS HANDED IT OFF TO MY BROTHER EVEN THOUGH THE PACKAGE CLEARLY IS ADDRESSED TO ME? TYPICAL." The skeleton tapping his foot impatiently in front of you was just a hand taller than you, but his form-fitting and sharp clothes added to the allusion of him being tall and formidable. His outfit consisted of an unfastened, ebony trench coat, a black turtleneck, black dress pants, and ... why was he wearing sparkling red, six-inch heel go-go boots indoors? You _also_ noted that one was firmly planted on the back of the other's skull, but decided not to comment. Instead, you met the two glowing carnation red stars ringed by what appears to be two hot pink circles and examined his features. 

Yeah, this was Sans all right, but his features were sharper and looked like they could slice through anything. His teeth were sharp, with two hooked canines poking out from his scowl; scrunching up the left of side of his face that sported two scars through his eye-socket. You winced, wondering how or where exactly that came from. 

"Uh, I'm not a delivery man, so I don't know what you're talking about - " you didn't even get to finish. 

"LIES! WHY WOULD ANYONE WHO ISN'T A MONSTER COME TO OUR DOOR?" he accusingly jabbed his index digit into your chest, bone-brows scrunched and sockets narrowed. 

"Maybe because a human lives in your neighborhood now?" his brows perked up at the ends slightly, and before he even had time to respond, there was a muffled response from the skeleton splayed across the ground. The Sans moved his leg off the other, granting him permission to unsteadily push himself to his feet as his hands started dusting himself off. He wore a fur-lined windbreaker that was colored a mix between mahogany and burgundy, the jacket zipped all the way up to his flashy, maroon red collar; a pair of black joggers that were rolled at the ends, a pair of fat yellow socks decorating his feet. 

"m'lord, that means your neti pot isn't here, then," his voice was sly and like a whisper, a faint hint of smoke to it. He sounded like Papyrus, but there was a lisp present - which was more than likely due to the giant golden fangs hooked over his teeth. His cheekbones were _sharp,_ his skull a lot more pointed. He kind of, in a way, resembled an edgy-looking Crush. 

"WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO ABOUT MY NASAL CAVITY NOW? GAH, BLASTED DELIVERY SERVICES," he stomped his foot, crossed his arms, and directed a pout toward the ground. You almost felt bad for him, brows pinched together in concern until his skull snapped towards you and he snuffed, "WHAT ARE YOU STILL DOING HERE? IF YOU AREN'T HERE TO BRING ME MY PACKAGE, THEN WHAT'S THE PURPOSE OF THIS? HAVE YOU SOME ULTERIOR MOTIVE?" 

You blinked a couple of times, trying to make sure you heard him correctly, and arched a brow. What the - an ulterior motive? You shook your head. 

"Uh, no, I just thought that since I was new in the neighborhood that I would introduce myself to the neighbors," you were finally able to remember how to smile, so you flashed your pearliest one while the Sans stared, "attempting to be friendly and all that jazz."

"WELL, ALL THAT IS HAPPENED IS THAT MY VERY HEIGHTENED HOPES WERE DASHED AND NOW I'M DISAPPOINTED," he heaves a heavy sigh, "ENTERTAIN THE HUMAN, DODGER! I AM GOING TO CLEAN OUT MY NASAL CAVITY WITH A BORING OLD COTTON SWAB." After he said this, he turned tail and walked away while exaggeratedly leaning forward to dangle his arms. It was the saddest thing you'd ever seen. 

When you focused your attention on ... Dodger, you found him blankly staring at you. The two of you stared into one another's eyes for at _least_ fifteen seconds before you broke the contact, looked away, and awkwardly chuckled. 

"Could I at least get your ... lemme guess, brother's name? Also, am I safe to assume that you _aren't_ also Sans and Papyrus?" Dodger raised a brow, his expression unreadable. 

"didn't you hear m'lord? i'm dodger and he's onyx," Dodger pulls at the collar of his jacket, "never heard of these sans and papyrus fellas. in case you hadn't noticed, the world's a lot bigger than you think - not all skeletons know each other." Had Dodger not stated the last part of his sentence, you would have immediately apologized for being insensitive. Instead, you started, and sliced one hand toward him. 

"I've never said that they were skeleton monsters," your tone pitched a little higher near the end, almost like you were asking a question. Dodger did not elaborate; the door, as strange as it may be, just closed on its own accord. 

**_Click._ **

The camera swooped between Dodger and Onyx's house then to the house directly beside it; the wind making clipping noises through the speaker. "Sorry, guys, I'm just trying to make sure they're not running in between houses when I'm not looking. Because, I swear to God, those last two neighbors were _also_ Sans and Papyrus! I'm not crazy, I swear!" You rub your temples in frustration, then scratched at the back of your head. 

"I hope this is some elaborate prank, because, hhh - I hope the realtors can find me a new house. I don't feel like being the new protagonist in that _Osomatsu-san_ anime, ya feel me? I wanna be the protagonist of a boring, slice-of-life anime for just a little bit." You huffed, the camera being clung harshly against your chest. It's pointing ahead, but to the side, you could clearly make out the next house. 

"Now, I _know_ I said I wasn't going to record because that's rude or whatever, but I need proof! Just play it cool, you guys. Aaaand let's hope I'm not breaking any laws." 

_**Cut.** _

Your fist was hesitantly hovered by the door, a visible moment of discomfort present. Then, without any further ado, you knocked. 

There is a bunch of loud scrambling from inside when the door is suddenly flung open, which makes you quietly shriek. Hovering insanely in the threshold with one arm extended out that still held the door open was another skeleton with a giant gaping hole in his skull. You weren't able to see his face because it was pointed towards a just visible stairwell. 

"hey, bro, the pizzas are here. come down, you have the cash!" Thumping and hollering resounded from upstairs as the massive skeleton in front of you then turned to face you, the look of happiness splattered across his features now replaced with confusion. You could see that his face was round, but with features that were sunken in and as jagged as the ends of the hole in his cranium. One vibrating maroon red orb was in his left socket, transfixed on you and he shakily exhaled. He reached forward, phalanges slamming down on both of your shoulders as he began to shake you back and forth. 

"bruh, where'd the pizzas go?" The skeleton looked panicked, glancing around nervously as the clumping noticeably got louder. 

"I don't work in delivery, that's the second time today that I've said that," your voice came out in a shrill wail, warbling at the end. At your words, the orb in the skeleton's socket dilated and he whispered a soft, "oh, no." 

"okay, okay," he placed both of his arms diagonally against the doorframe and started breathing heavily, "listen, there's no stopping him now. you have to run. go, i'll hold him off." 

Before you were even able to respond, you heard a very loud, _"BROOOOOTHERRR!"_ followed by a loud clattering from just up the stairs. 

**_Cut._ **

The camera was jostling very hard and there was loud panting.

"Guys, guys," huff, huff, "I told you guys I'm not crazy! That was definitely Sans with a fucking _hole_ in his head!" There were a few seconds of panicked whimpering, a sniffle, and then a very loud wail. 

"What was that _thing_ that he was holding off - Papyrus?" There was a very noticeable warble in the next sentence. "Guys, what the _fuck_ happened to Papyrus, you guys!!!" The view of the camera displayed one final house, but the footage was very shaky - so it was hard to get a decent view. 

"Whatever! I'll just never go to that house again," the camera stopped inches from the door to the next house, a fist coming into view that was hovering just a tiny bit away from the door. It was shaking very exaggeratedly; almost like you were doing it on purpose. It was obvious that you were terrified. "Let's roll the dice one more time, shall we?" 

And then, there was a knock. 

"COMING! AND DON'T BOTHER, SANS, I'M CLOSER TO THE DOOR!" 

There was a yelp as the camera sharply spun around, beating against your chest almost hard enough to knock the wind out of you. 

"FUCK IT! NO! NO! YOU HEARD IT! He said 'Sans'! This **IS** a prank! I'm going home and moving!" 

In the distance, you could hear a faint tenor voice shout, 

_"HEY, YOU THERE! I SEE YOU, YOU DING-DONG-DITCHER!"_

The camera fumbles a bit, slipping slightly in the hold of whoever turned it around, and manages to catch a tall and lanky individual running towards you. 

"I DON'T SUFFER THESE SHENANIGANS LIGHTLY, SO GET BACK HERE!" 

You screamed, turning the camera back around again and barely capturing the shorter figure chasing after the taller one. 

**_Cut._ **

Your face was in the center of the shot, but that wasn't the most interesting thing. No, it was, instead, the five figures chasing after you. Two of the taller ones - who you don't recognize, so you assume those most be the two new ones - were running on all fours. Papyrus, Sunny, and Onyx were running with their arms bent at their elbows and rigidly swinging back and forth. What's worse: all of their respective brothers seemed to be hovering over them, stiff as a board and planking in mid-air, as they floated along. 

_"I don't wanna live here I don't wanna live here I don't wanna live here I don't wanna live here I don't wanna live here - "_


	2. They Got Into My House ...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm serious, guys. It's been two days and I'm still afraid to leave the house. 
> 
> What do they mean by twelve different meats?
> 
> Send help, pls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is my Tumblr:
> 
> \- [My Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/sabelisajacques)  
> 

**_Click._ **

"Hey, guys, welcome _back_ to my channel," your voice came out in a hushed whisper, your eyes shifting about your abode nervously. "So, I know my last update was kind of abrupt and strange, but like, I appreciate all of the concern that you guys have been sending me - I _really_ need it." 

The camera flickered slightly, being unsettled and scooted over slightly as your face came into view. Your house's bald interior was visible; brown, moving boxes were strewn about randomly and the only pieces of furniture really settled in was the giant white sectional couch with a glass coffee table planted directly in front of the center. You look absolutely haggard, like you hadn't slept well for the past couple of days. 

"So, I guess that my last video needs a little explanation? Well, all right, so listen to this: I have _no_ clue," a heavy sigh slipped past your slightly chapped lips, then you dragged the palm of one of your hands down your face, "they're brothers from other mothers, all right. But, here's the catch, they haven't _left_! They've just been levitating outside of my home for the past two days all ominously. What am I actually supposed to do?" 

Everything grew silent as you clasped both of your hands together and pressed them to your face, almost looking like you were praying for the current circumstances. You sharply inhaled, your entire body moving along with the motion as your chest expanded. Then, after dropping your arms back down to your sides, you fixed a deadpan to the camera. 

"I'm going to have to go out and face them now," both of your eyes exaggeratedly pulled to a close, your deadpan transforming into a grimace, "My supply of Faygo and mayonnaise is getting dangerously low; I'll have to venture out eventually for something to eat. I guess ... I guess now is better than any. No point in stalling, ya dig?"

You reached forward, fingers brushing noisily against the sides of the camera, and lifted the camcorder off its stand. It shook a bit, everything blurring together and creating streaks of scenery as there was a shuffling while you stood to your feet. Then, once you were prancing nervously from foot to foot, the camera resettled on your pained expression. 

"Look, I'm first going to show you guys what I mean - it's ... unsettling? Yeah, unsettling's a good word," shaking your head just barely, you shambled towards something and turned the camera around. It was a window with a stereotypical type of stark-white blinds, but your hand was stretched out for it like you were going to spread a few of the lines apart. However, it is to be duly noted that your hand was shaking a mile a minute. "I haven't checked on them in a _fat_ minute, so I'm actually kind of scared about what we're gonna see. If they're still out there, that is ... Yeah, let's hope they got bored and went home. Let's hope there's nothing out there." 

After you apparently reassured yourself, your index digit and thumb pried the blinds open and the snout of the camera was anxiously shoved into the tiny slot. It scraped against something loudly, winked a few times at the change from a rather dim living room to a bright outside world, but then the camera refocused. 

"Oh, God bless it, they're still there!" your voice came out in a really high-pitched shrill, warbling slightly at the end almost theatrically as the scene before the home was captured. There, actually miraculously levitating, were the ten skeletons neighbors you so graciously wanted to greet a couple of days ago. They were bobbing up and down by a fraction of an inch, perfectly imitating the floating man in a business suit emoji, and were surrounded by this barely-noticeable, glowing red aura. You're also certain that they're eyes were solid white, definitely contrasting out against their shadowed faces and replicating the deep-fried target eyes. 

_"_ Broshinkis, what in the actual _hell_ am I supposed to do against that? And that's not the only thing, I think they're getting closer, too. The few times I opened my door to leave, they would suddenly be on the ground but closer. What does that mean? Are they eventually going to get bored of waiting and descend or are they going to wait me out? Honestly, I'm ... sigh, I'm actually just hungry." 

There was an audible sigh that rippled through your throat, accompanied by a groan, before the camera slid as you started walking again. Your feet were the only thing in shot, covered by a pair of frog socks, and were basically scooting across the floor lazily. You halted, paused in front of what appeared to be a door as the camera jerked back up and your hand was loosely wrapped around a doorknob. 

"I'm just going to give you guys a little peek so that you can see what I mean, okay?" 

Then, as soundlessly as possible, you twisted the knob and barely cracked the door open; your movements were fast and sloppy as you lurched forward and poked only the head of the camera out the thin slot. It didn't take nearly as long as last time to adjust to the sunlight, but when the camera did, your early statement was proven true. 

Now planted firmly on the ground, all of the neighbors stood with a mix of easy-going smiles and scowls. Some had their arms crossed, others had their hands clasped together happily, others had their hands stuffed in their pockets, and some tapped their feet impatiently. They were spread out in a 'V' formation, scattered across your front lawn. Though, strangely enough, they appeared closer to the house than whenever they were suspended in midair. Before the any of them really noticed the camera, however, it was yanked back inside of the home and the front door slammed shut with a powerful thud. 

"Did you guys see it? Did you see how they were just back on the ground? Weren't they closer? Gah! I can't tell; I'm about to have a hernia, this is ... !" 

It seemed like you were, in fact, actually having a hernia. Your voice cracked, strained and panicked at the end, as your brows darted up to your forehead and you flung your head side to side. Your hair whipped wildly, looking like a whirlpool, and snapped against your face a few times. Then, without forewarning, you sprinted back to the blinds and shoved them aside to press the camera back to it. You were panting, hands shaking, but the camera picked up the skeleton neighbors floating again. You pointed, hissing out an airy wail, then waved your digit about aimlessly before you ran back to the front door to crack it open and shove the camera outside. The neighbors, unsurprisingly, were back on the ground and _closer._ A very loud 'WAAAH!' came from behind the camera as this process repeated several more times; the neighbors just inching closer and closer and closer. 

You probably would have continued to, the Benny Hill Theme looping over the footage, except for the fact that after you checked the front after the fourth time - they were gone. The camera jerkily halted, tilted a few inches to the side, and making the view askew as you emitted a strangled gasp. "Wait, hold on, they're gone? Oh, my God! They're actually gone! What'd they do? Teleport? I didn't see them leave?" 

Everything stilled, a momentary silence, but then your hand ever so slowly reached out for the door to push it open fully. Its hinges cried out in protest quietly, time almost going in slow-motion as it bounced a few times once it reached its max flexibility. 

Outside, the view of your front lawn, there were no longer any skeletons. 

"Guys, I don't trust this,"the camera was shaking slightly, more than likely due to your high-strung nerves and anxieties, "Look, I'm going to have to go out and investigate this. I might not make it back; so, if that's the case, guys, don't forget to _smash_ that subscribe button so that you can help me get the Youtube Golden Play Button in my memorial." 

After this, the camera was flipped around and the footage was all fuzzy and blurry for a few moments. Then, your face was back into view, but ... there was ... something in the background. 

You seemed to notice it after your eyes flickered over the camera to adjust the shot, which made your eyes momentarily boggle as you noticed that suddenly all ten of your new skeleton neighbors were standing _inside_ your home now. You shrieked, the footage streaked, and then, 

_**Cut.** _

"AH! AH! Ah - ahhh!"you twirled around on your axis as fast as lightning, your head spinning and blood throbbing against your temples as you exaggeratedly pointed at the skeletons standing in your foyer. Their poses were the same exact ones that they had been striking outside, except you noticed some of the expressions looked a little more ... strained. You couldn't help but continue screaming, flailing your arms around as your brain tried to comprehend this situation in its entirety. 

After you had visited the home with the Sans and Papyrus with the blood SFX makeup on, you had realized that something was _terribly_ wrong. It wasn't that they were all monsters, or possibly the same subspecies of monster, but the fact that they were almost the exact carbon copy of the same two dudes. Their features were too similar, their two personalities too fluid and iconic to appear in each set _five other times._ Your hopes of gaining some new friends were eradicated, destroyed by this realization _and_ by the fact that they had legitimately been levitating outside of your home for exactly who knows how long. 

Finally, after a solid two minutes of watching your body mimic an inflatable-tube-man, the very first Sans that you met shrank down into his shoulders with closed sockets and released an uneasy chuckle. One of his legs crooked at the knee, ready to step forward, which immediately snapped you back into attention. 

"You!" you pointed, eyes narrowed and exasperated, "The comedian! What in the hotdog-hotdog-hot-diggity-dog is going on here?" Sans faltered, sockets snapping open, and he cocked his head to the side. 

"was that a reference?" your glare made him clink his teeth shut audibly and he winced, "okay, so, the only reason why this happened was that the others blew our cover." 

"Your _cover_?" you wheezed. 

"precisely," Sans' mouth was still open, more than likely about to continue whenever the taller skeleton that had sparked this whole fiasco stepped forward - a pointy scowl polishing his features. His fists were clenched and balled down by his sides, shoulders tense and drawn up in anger; it was a posture that made Sans' eye-lights momentarily fuzz into pinpricks as he lifted a hand to stop the other, but was so nicely ignored. 

"I ONLY SHOWED SUCH RUDE ETIQUETTE AFTER YOU DECIDED THAT YOU WOULD CHILDISHLY PRANK US WITH A DING AND DITCH," he huffed, stomping one of his boots to the ground, "YOU SHOULD HAVE LET ME CATCH YOU FOR A STERN TALKING-TO ABOUT POLITENESS!"

He continued ranting, but your ears rounded off the sound of his screechy tenor as you finally observed him. The shape of his skull was sharp but strikingly similar to Papyrus', three large cracks running down his right socket. His teeth were all fang, pointy and glittering against the small rays of sunlight flitting through your blinds. His outfit consisted of a wine red peacoat, twinkling with multiple golden chains lacing across and down the center; black gloves with a multitude of buckles tied off by a red bow at the ends; boots with impressively tall platforms decorated by spikes galore and even more buckles; and, finally, his skinny-jeans the same wine red as the coat. 

You blinked, realizing that his outfit was flashy _and_ extra, before glancing at the other three that you really didn't get a chance to look at a couple of days ago. Though it might have seemed rude, your eyes bounced over to the Sans with the giant hole in his skull. You had only really been looking at his face at the time, craving to know that you weren't going bonkers and that they were the same skeletons - but now you could actually see what he was wearing. 

That Sans was wearing a slate blue parka, beige fur lining the hood and the cuffs of the sleeves. His sweater was just a duller creme than the first Sans', looking tattered and frayed with time at the ends - but it didn't stand out, honestly, since it matched the whole 'horror' effect. His bottom half was finished by a pair of black joggers with two stripes running down each side, cuffed mid-calf; his shoes were untied, blue converse. You nodded to yourself, glancing at the Papyrus standing to his side. 

And you ... were more than a little shocked at how _tall_ he was. 

Though his teeth were in braces, they were obviously shaved down and resized - so you're not sure what they could have looked like before. There was a pair of circular, tortoiseshell glasses framing his shrunken sockets; they didn't appear to be held by any tape, so they probably stayed on by _magic._ His outfit was simplistic: a deep forest green sweater, a pair of _Coraline_ gloves, high-waisted tawny brown slacks, a garnet red scarf draped over his shoulders, some plain black loafers. When you glanced the camera down, a set of plain white knee and hip braces were strapped around his lower-half. In all honestly, this one resembled a dorky Papyrus - but it was endearing. 

And, finally, the camera angled slightly towards the last Sans standing in the room. There was a slight crack that trickled over the top of his skull down to his temple, both of his eye-lights red irises. One of the canines poking out from his smirk was golden, a sparkle glittering down the center whenever he winked at the camera. He wore a half-and-half color-block, puffy windbreaker, lined by this enormously fluffy white fur that reminded you of a fox's tail. It was hooked by a golden chain, matching the multitude of rings wrapped around all of his phalanges. His shorts were mahogany, as were the leggings underneath them, with a yellow stripe that lined the sides and circled the bottoms; there were golden yellow leg-warmers drooping over his red sneakers with a couple of buckles strapped across the tops so that the shoelaces didn't have to be tied. 

After the camera did one last pan over of all the skeletons in the room so that it could take in the appearance of all the others, and luckily, you finished your observations as that very loud voice from early started stomping his feet again. 

"AND NOW YOU'RE JUST FLAT OUT IGNORING ME! HOW RUDE!" snapping back into attention, your eyes whizzed around for a second as you looked back at him. 

"Sorry, but how'd you get into my house?" your voice was barely higher than a whisper. The one yelling at you immediately piped down as the first Sans lifted his index digit and opened his mouth to start explaining, ... only to be cut off by the Papyrus who you hadn't spoken to yet. 

"WE'VE BEEN TRYING TO CONTACT YOU FOR THE PAST COUPLE OF DAYS TO TRY AND EXPLAIN OURSELVES ABOUT _WHY_ WE LOOK EXACTLY ALIKE, SO I'LL TELL YOU," his voice was like Papyrus', except there was an ever-present lisp and stutter to his words, "THE REASON WHY IS BECAUSE ... SANS AND PAPYRUS ARE OUR PARENTS!" 

The room then went absolutely silent as the first Sans and Papyrus slowly slid their skulls over and angled them to fix that Papyrus with the biggest deadpan that you've ever seen. 

"So you're telling me that ... those two brothers," you jabbed two of your fingers towards them, "are your parents and had four other sets of them all with the same name - or, at least, I'm assuming you all shared names." The Papyrus with braces vibrated in place slightly, glancing around nervously, before exaggeratedly bobbing his skull once. 

"THEY'RE VERY BAD AT NAMES!!!" You could only stare; none of this was making any sense. Sans Number Uno saw your bulged eyes and your confused expression, swiped his palm down his face, and smiled - even if it looked very taut. 

"actually, guys, i don't mind telling them since they live here now and we kind of levitated around their home for a few days," he met your gaze, "so, you've already guessed it. we're all sans and papyrus." 

"How'd that even happen? You sure this still isn't some elaborate prank?" one of your brows arched, lips pursed as you stared hard. 

"nah, uh, it involves a lot of science, machines, time-travel, and universes," he shrugged while closing his sockets, "but don't worry your head about that ... just _yet."_ At that moment, his eyes snap right open and look directly into the camera. 

"Waaait, I don't like how ominous that sounds - " you're cut off. 

"y'know, we're kind of surprised that you moved in ever _after_ we've warned many a realtor to stay away from this place," Sans waved his hand about, "as you saw, living around the same two guys over and over again can be kind of ... " His hand then swiveled around in thought as he trailed off, no longer gazing into the camera. 

"Disorientating?" you offered and he nodded. 

"that's it," his grin flinched back, "plus, we don't know if any more would be coming, so we wanted to keep a few houses open." 

"Wait, _more?_ How many universes _are_ there?" you blinked as a whimsically comic sound played over his slow shrugging. 

"dunno, however many the plot demands," you almost interrupted him again, but he continued, "well, anyway, since we explained ourselves - i think we're gonna go, but lemme leave ya with a few rules." 

_"Rules?_ I bought this house!"

"number one: don't break any inconsequential rules around Blaise - he will send you a lengthy Messenger chat bubble; number two: don't get in between Remy and Rudolph and their pizza - _especially_ Remy." Sans was holding two phalanges, obviously counting off of them before the Papyrus with the braces interjected. 

"I APOLOGIZE FOR MY WILD BEHAVIOR! WHENEVER I KNOW THE PIZZA HAS ARRIVED, I BLACKOUT. I BLACKOUT AND ALLOW THE SPIRIT OF A EURASIAN WILDEBEEST TO TAKE OVER MY BODY." Wait, that didn't sound right. 

"Uh, wait, are you saying wildebeest live in R - "

"rule number three: under no circumstances should you get between Onyx and his nasal cavity care - he sticks his nose in everyone's business, so it gets kind of caked with sh - "

"EXCUSE YOU, I _DO_ _NOT GET_ IN ANYONE'S BUSINESS!" he then pivoted around quickly and pointed furiously towards you, "NOW, TO RUN A THOROUGH BACKGROUND CHECK, I WILL REQUIRE THESE ITEMS: YOUR SOCIAL SECURITY CARD, YOUR DRIVER'S LICENSE, YOUR BIRTH CERTIFICATE, AND - " 

"uh, hey, actually, i think i just heard the amazon truck go by," Sans leaned back, gesturing towards the front door. Then, Onyx screamed something that sounded vaguely like 'MY NETI POT', rushed towards the window, and harpooned backward straight out of it. Your window shattered and pieces of glass clattered to the floor noisily in a perfect circle; you screamed, pointed, and looked at Sans. He ignored you. 

"and, finally, rule number four: do not talk to russet, he _will_ marry you," he finished up, hands now firmly planted back into his pockets. Russet takes offense, gasping and placing his hand over the place where his heart would be, and jerks his skull towards Sans. 

"hey, woah, woah, woah, don't go tellin' 'em that, they'll think i'm some kinda _**w h o r e,"**_ on his last word, Russet cupped both of his hands around his mouth and yelled - causing an uncanny echo. It broke the window just a little bit more; you cried. 

"okay, whatever, those are the most pressing ones, we'll keep ya updated if there are any more," Sans' smile was more natural now, "and with that, we'll be getting out of here. but, please, we insist - drop by any time. hell, if you want, we can plan some sorta house-warming bbq? uh, just be prepared to eat twelve very _different_ kinds of meat." Suddenly, he disappeared, and before you even got the opportunity to look around for him, you heard a dark whisper in your ear. 

_"welcome to the neighborhood."_

You scream and drop the camera, which clattered to the ground on its back so that all of your faces were still in shot. 

"all right, boys, we've bothered them enough, so let's go," Sans motioned for all of them to follow his lead, but before he could even take a step towards the threshold, Sunny bounced forward while clapping his hands together happily. The stars in his eyes were glowing so brilliantly now, his face flushed a light blue, and he smiled wide. 

"OH! I KNOW WHICH EXIT I'LL BE TAKING," he then rose into the air a few feet and stiffened his body, "IT JUST LOOKED SO FUN WHEN ONYX DID IT, SO I MUST TRY!" While you and Sans reached forward dramatically, his body made like _Katsuki Bakugou_ and projectiled forward to hurtle out the window. At this, the flood gates opened and the other three 'Papyruses' all followed suit. They were screaming out and along to the beginnings of the song _Apache_ by The Sugarhill Gang. Your window wasn't even a window anymore - just a rectangular hole in the wall. 

You sadly watched as Crush, Russet, Dodger, and Rudolph all mimicked the 'I Guess I'll Die' meme pose before exaggeratedly stepping through the window. Whenever you glanced at Sans to see if he'd follow, his widened sockets just blinked. 

"uhh, i'll send paps over later," he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "he loves puzzles, so i'm sure that he'll ... love to ... piece this back together with his elmer's school craft glue ... the purple kind."

At your imploring stare, Sans coughed into his fist and then he was gone. 

Your scrambling could be heard as you bent over and fumbled for the camera, readjusting the distance of the shot and zooming in dramatically towards your face. You looked pale, those couple of days of no sleep finally catching up to you. 

"Well, guys, I don't know what's going to happen, I don't know if they're telling the truth," you shuddered, " I don't know if they turn people who move here into skeletons." Then, you gasped and covered your mouth with your hand. 

"Am I going to get assigned a _Sans?_ Ahh, man. This may be the last video that I upload as a human, you guys. So, if I'm not back for a few days, ... " then, silence. You didn't say anything else other than stare intently into the camera. 

**_Click._ **

[Behind the links to a couple of your other videos, you have a twenty-second clip of Papyrus painstakingly trying to glue pieces of the window back together. There is a vaporwave filter over the footage, while the song in the background that plays is _Flourish_ by Purrple Cat.]


	3. I'm One of the Meats!!!??? (Not Clickbait)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to go to the barbeque, honest. 
> 
> Did I just survive initiation?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is my Tumblr:   
> \- [My Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/sabelisajacques)  
> I'm drawing all of the official designs for these boys and will be posting them periodically! If you want to see them, you can find them on my Tumblr.

_**Click.** _

[In all caps, the text 'ATTEMPT ONE' scrawls across the screen; there is a chord of an organ struck in time with it.]

"So, all right, fellas - today's the day!"

The camera zoomed in dramatically, perfectly framing only your eyes before it returned to its original frame. Your slightly tired and definitely stressed out face was in dead center, while the background appeared to be the rest of the neighborhood. You were walking down the sidewalk, destination unclear. 

"Actually, I'm going to be real with ya, I'm not really as excited as I should be. Wait, no, I might get turned into a skeleton. I shouldn't be excited at _all,"_ you sighed heavily, shaking your head slightly before your index finger jabbed forward. "Sans told me to head over to his house for the barbeque around four PM, so that's what I'm doing. Let's just hope that I can actually eat all twelve of those meats." 

Then, instead of continuing onwards, you halted and pointedly glared into the lens. 

"You know, ever since I started posting about my stay here, the views have skyrocketed. I mean, like, what in the actual hell, y'all," your eyes wrenched shut and you raked your hand down your face. "Whatever, if this is the content you want, then I guess I'll deliver because I'm just another cog in the YouTube machine." 

After snapping your eyes back open and letting your hand fall limply by your side, you trekked forward with one last sentence, "like and subscribe if I get turned into an E-Boy Sans."

**_Click._ **

Once the camera thumped back against your chest via the strap looped around your neck, you couldn't help the anxious feeling twisting around in your gut. It wasn't unwarranted, however, given the current circumstances. Your stay in this neck of the suburbs hadn't been for very long, just a little over a week. The first few days had been terrorized by your new neighbors with their strange levitation abilities, then the next few had been in dread over whenever the barbeque would be, and the last couple had been spent communicating with Sans and planning to set up the perfect date. 

See, it wasn't necessarily that you were scared of them, no - it was what they were _capable_ of. Floating around your home in vigilance and teleporting could more than likely be chalked up to magic, so you decided that the brothers were probably just a little more than abrasive and didn't really communicate much with others outside their clique; that would explain their different dynamics and strange communication patterns, but ... then you saw Papyrus glue a window back together seamlessly with a simple stick of Elmer's. 

Then, it was all up in the air. 

Of course, that means that you have no idea what to expect from this barbeque. In all honesty, it _was_ kind of exhilarating to imagine some wacky shenanigans with the skeletons, but that was foreign territory. Whenever your improv skits involved solely humans, it was easy to predict what actions could occur and what to expect via dialogue. It was all just an act, so it was easy to laugh everything off and continue to build off one another. 

With these sets of brothers, however ... it was all r _eal._

Your subscribers thought it was amazing and definitely an interesting spin on your content, but they, too, assumed it was staged. Though, as funny as it was to wave it off and agree with them, you knew the truth. 

And maybe that's why your fist was literally shaking a mile a minute as it hovered a few centimeters away from the front door to Sans and Papyrus' home. You gulped, realizing that you might not be as edgy and sporadic as you first believed, and inhaled sharply. Your opposite hand fumbled across the top of your camera to flick it on - just in case - as you gathered the courage to finally knock, and you uneasily closed your eyes. 

**_Click._ **

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

_THUMP. THUMP. THUMP -_

"hey, kid, glad you could make it," came from the door as it creakily cracked open. "was afraid that you weren't gonna show up." 

Sans was standing in the threshold, casually leaning against the frame, as he flashed a lazy grin. 

"Well, not gonna lie, that had actually been pretty tempting, _especially_ after seeing the chains and the tombstones in your basement -"

Sans interrupted you, skull tilted to the side, "wait, you've been in our basement?"

You chuckled awkwardly along, making really intense eye contact with Sans before averting your gaze, both of your hands flailing side to side with the shaking of your head, "don't worry about that." Sans shrugged lightly, deciding to drop it, and his hand waved in tiny circles.

"But, anyway, I'm here now!" At this, you snapped both thumbs-up and Sans' easygoing smile seemed to loosen just a bit. His teeth parted, about to say something, but clinked back together noisily whenever there was more thumping from upstairs and then there was a bellowing. It echoed, ringing throughout the mostly silent house, and that dread returned tenfold. 

_"HUUUUUMAAAN! THERE YOU ARE!"_ and your pupils quickly snapped over to the top of the staircase, around Sans' now stiff body and the foyer. There, at the top in a very threatening pose, was Papyrus. He was grinning wildly, stars glittering in his black sockets, and waved enthusiastically. His entire body wavered with the motion, looking like waves crashing onto the beach shore, and sucked in a deep breath of air as he shouted again, "ARE YOU _READY?"_

You gulped, "uh, ready for what?" 

" _THE HUNT!"_

Sans' stiffened body went lax for just a split second as his skull angled to the side, one of those weird quirked-end bone-brows lifted just barely, and used one of his hands to gesture toward the outside, "you may wanna run. just a little heads-up." You blanched, jerking your entire body nervously to him as you ushered out in a hushed voice, 

"What? _Run?"_ you didn't get a chance to get another word out because, at the last syllable of your sentence, Papyrus sliced both of his arms out as his gangly limbs squat down before leaping gracefully into the air. His body was eagle-spread, cheekbones flushed from adrenaline, as he swan-dived straight for you.

A scream rippled in the back of your throat as you haphazardly shifted your body weight around and pivoted back out towards the front lawn, momentarily stumbling and catching yourself with your hands against the deck. Scrambling, scratching and chipping your nails at the wood, you managed to push yourself onto your feet so that you could sprint away as fast as humanly possible. You could hear Papyrus slam into the wall, which you're positive must have left a hole, and then scuttled after you. 

Wheezing, tears stinging at your eyes in fear, you forced your legs to keep going. But, before you could really get any further, you heard the quiet sound of a barely noticeable yipping in the distance. At first, there were just a few periodic ones; then, suddenly the volume increased, there were multiple layers of the yips; finally, after a few seconds, it sounded like an entire marching band of yapping. Tears dissipating, confusion washing over your disoriented mind, you risked a brief glance over your shoulder ... only to discover there was a herd of small, white dogs furiously waggling their tails and lolling their tongues out now running towards you. 

What the ... ? 

"HUMAN! THESE TINY, FEROCIOUS MENACES ATE MY SPECIAL ATTACK," Papyrus' voice hollered after you, reverberating around the hollow neighborhood, "SO, I GUESS THEY WILL JUST HAVE TO SUFFICE!" Desperately scanning through the dogs, you noticed that Papyrus was pounding his feet against the ground as his arms swung and chopped by his side with a mischievous smirk- not the far behind you. 

You screeched, sharply taking a left, and then ran for your life. 

**_Cut._ **

"Guys, I'm surrounded," your visage wasn't in the frame, but the camera capture the bright, blue skies. Your voice cracked at the end, licks of wind clipping each word, and then the camera slowly panned down. Your current position was awkwardly saddled across one of the house's two gablets, free hand keeping you steady as you leaned forward for the shot. But, due to this bizarre positioning, the lens was able to fully capture the entire army of the white dogs. Some were vibrating in place, some were jumping up and down to reach your height, and there were even a couple that was floating completely upside down. You could even hear a funky rhythm in the background, as if all the dogs were ... singing? 

...

Some kind of Dogsong, if you will. 

...

But, never mind that, Papyrus was dragging a very large metal cage behind him in the faint distance. He was huffing and puffing, the cage was literally shrieking against the asphalt as it moved along, and his body was doing an entire _Michael Jackson_ just to be able to move it. The camera, though shaky, just kept zooming in and out the closer he came. You were humming along to some lackadaisical song, occasionally clapping your hands against your thighs as you waited for Papyrus to be within proximity of the house's front lawn. 

It took him exactly four minutes and fourty-nine seconds, but he finally arrived at the outskirts of the dog army. He heaved, a proud smile dancing across his features, and planted both of his hands on his hips. Then, his skull angled up by a fraction and he shaded his eyes with one of his hands, now squinting. 

"OKAY, HUMAN - FEAR NOT, I HAVE ARRIVED WITH YOUR CAPTURE-MOBILE!" he pounded his other fist against his chest, "SO COME DOWN NOW OR ELSE I'LL - "

_**Cut.** _

"Well, he got me, guys," your voice was very quiet, barely even above a whisper. "I'm down here in what appears to be the ... basement? Anyhow, it appears that Papyrus has set up some sort of noise-creating alarms to alert him if I manage to escape." Then, with a quick whirl, the camera was turned around and grazing over the basement floor. Spread across every single square inch were various novelty items like rat-traps, whoopee cushions, airhorns, and those weird buzzer things that you have to put on your hand to shock people. You couldn't see any concrete at _all,_ which offered a really grim outlook of survival. 

"So, I guess that means that even if I could escape, he'd hear me," you then leaned your arm against the cage door, about to continue when, "coming a mile away - "

_E._

Your eyes were blown out as you looked into the camera. The door ... it just ... swung open. It missed all of the traps on the floor as it sliced over them, but you couldn't help but just blink as you muttered, "Thank God! It opened. I was afraid that I was going to be stuck here and forced to eat _dog food."_ Then the camera jerked over to the side of the cage where there appeared to be a human-sized, hamster water bottle siphon-contraption filled with a bunch of singular pellets of dog food.

You sighed, but then you suddenly realized - maybe, if the cage was that easy to undermine, then the traps might be the same exact way.

So, inhaling sharply and closing your eyes to send off a quick prayer, you lifted one leg and carefully stepped out. First, your foot came into contact with a buzzer; then, it was an airhorn; then, it was a whoopee cushion; and, finally, a rat-trap. This process continued over and over and over again in that same _exact_ pattern as you ascended the stairwell and reached the basement door. 

There was a grimace across your face as you glanced into the camera, brows uncomfortably pinched together as you spoke, "Wow, I just made an ungodly amount of noise. But, it doesn't seem like Papyrus noticed because he hasn't come down here to check up on me? Good, let's hope my escape continues to go just as smoothly as this."

Your camera flipped around as you reached for the doorknob, carefully twisting it and pushing. It opened soundlessly, not even a slight brushing against the carpeted floor outside, and you smiled. However, that smile fell and your body tensed as there was a _haunting_ wail behind you. The footage streaked as you quickly whipped around, everything blurring and resizing back into focus before it picked up Papyrus standing at the bottom of the staircase. 

"Wait, where did you even come from? I didn't see you down there at all!" you yelled, a shake to your voice. Papyrus smirked. 

"I WAS HIDING IN THE CORNER OF THE CAGE!" 

"What do you mean that you were hiding in the corner of the cage? I looked around everywhere; there was nothing to obstruct you from sight," your voice raised in frequency and pitch, your hands flailing about madly.

"THEN YOU NEED TO LEARN TO LOOK HARDER, OR ELSE YOU'LL NEVER SURVIVE **THE HUNT,"** his voice dropped several octaves at the end of his sentence. Then, before you were able to get in anything else, Papyrus' body bulleted forward up the stairs. 

**_Cut._ **

There was no dialogue in this footage, only panting from your running and the occasional trill of a bell. It is to be duly noted that Papyrus is gallantly mounted on a tricycle as he manically pedals to chase after you. The two of you are just running around in circles in the center of the cul-de-sac, the entire clip in ten times speed because this goes on for at least four more hours. 

**_Cut._ **

[ATTEMPT TWO; the organ chord is slightly higher this time.]

"Well, I didn't get to eat last night at all, but I _did_ barely just evade capture again," you're walking, obviously going to one of the other's houses. It's Sunny and Crush's house; Sans just told you to come here yesterday so that a repeat of yesterday doesn't happen. "Anyhow, I didn't get any food or much sleep, but at least Papyrus gave me this notecard as a reward! It says, uh, 'congrat - '" 

You squint, bringing the card very close to your face, " 'conrat-', 'congratchoo-', 'conratachoochoo -' ... I can't read his handwriting; but, it's the thought that counts." You shrug and trail off, glancing at something in the distance. 

"Uh, I guess I'm here now at beautiful Sunny and Crush's house! So, let's see if I can actually go and get a hamburger." 

**_Cut._ **

The camera bounces as you bound up the front porch and knock a couple of times on the front door. In just a few moments, it's Crush that opens the door, "hey."

"Hey, man! I guess I heard the party's happening here now?" you question, tilting your head. 

"yeah, you heard right. you heard _exactly_ the right place," he lazily smirks. 

You chuckled, "Well, good! I'm excited to have some food and maybe a little sanity, huh?" Crush's smirk widens by a fraction, his shoulders bob once as he released a slight exhale of a chuckle through his nasal cavity, and then pulls out his phone. 

"heh, not quite," and then he presses a button. 

Suddenly, you hear the familiar opening notes of a particularly infamous Vocaloid song that relates to insanity. Then the camera flips around back to you, a slight 'huh' escaping your confused features. As the initial male vocals begin, you hear someone singing along energetically from upstairs. The camera flips back to capture the scene inside the house, your index finger jabbed forward as you scream along with beginning female vocals as Sunny comes marching down the stairs. 

**_Cut._ **

You're on the roof again; this time, an entire swarm of small, white cats barricading the house. 

"Where are they getting all of these animals from? There's got to be at least ... five cats down there," the camera pans back and forth over all of the jostling cats, "I mean, I guess it helps that none of them have sinuses so they don't necessarily have to worry about allergies - oh, wait. There's comes Sunny." He's not as far off as Papyrus had been, but he's dragging a cardboard box behind him instead of a metal cage. Sunny appears to be working just as diligently and hard as Papyrus was; he was dragging the box behind him almost like it was as heavy as the cage had been. 

Confused, one of your brows arched, you cupped both of your hands around your mouth as you called down, "Hey! Do you need some help with that?" 

**_Cut._ **

The footage is pitch black; though, there does seem to be a faint line of light. It appears that you are now inside the cardboard box as it is taped shut. Through the darkness, there's a faint whisper, 

"As it turns out, he didn't actually need help with the box, he was just faking that to trick me," your hand lifted up and started to feel around the lid of the box. "I think Sunny only used that tape that you can get from the Dollar Tree, so I don't think it's going to be very hard to open this." 

With that, you punched - albeit, gently. 

Once you tumbled out of the box, the scene was the exact same as Papyrus' basement. All of the traps were the same, except now they were galaxy-themed ... even the rat-traps. 

"That's cute, I guess," you pointed, "Hey, look. I even think the cheese is shaped like little stars. Oh, well, let's get out of here." The next few moments were, once again, spent hobbling over all of the traps in the same pattern as before until you finally reached the bottom of the stairwell. You paused, exhaling loudly through your mouth and shook your head. Then, with a slightly suspicious glance around the basement, you trekked up the stairs. Once there, you tried to open the door as loudly as possible; but still, not a peep. You almost groaned ... until you heard an identical wailing as yesterday. 

You knew it was Sunny. 

"YOU'RE STRONGER THAN I ACCOUNTED FOR! NO ONE SHOULD HAVE BEEN ABLE TO BREAK THROUGH THAT IMPENETRABLE TAPE!" he was pointing at you. 

"What do you mean? I'm pretty sure you used the worst brand of tape out there!" you gestured with a sweep of your arm. 

"I ADMIRE YOUR MODESTY AT BEING ABLE TO BEST ME," he grinned widely, both hands on his hips and legs planted outwards, "HOWEVER! YOU MADE ONE FATAL ERROR! YOU DID NOT ACCOUNT FOR ME BEING IN THE BOX WITH YOU." 

"What! I had to scrunch up to fit," the camera zooms in," where _actually_ were you?" 

He chuckles darkly with his shoulders hunched up, arms bent outwards, and fingers splayed, "YOU HAVE TO LEARN TO FLATTEN YOURSELF AGAINST _ANY_ WALL TO BE AN **APEX PREDATOR."**

You didn't even respond. 

_**Cut.** _

Much similar to the chase scene with Papyrus, Sunny was chasing you around in loops while riding a unicycle - this also lasts for four hours. 

_**Cut.** _

[ATTEMPT THREE, but the chord's even higher this time.]

"Wuh-huh, still no food, really tired, please just let me eat, you guys." the camera capture your exhausted features, stress lines visible under your eyes, "I can't survive off of congratulations cards, guys." You hold the notecard up, except it's noticeable that the handwriting is worse than last time. 

"Whatever, I think these two are ... uh, uh, ... well, at least I don't think the short one is sane. But, as long as he stays away from the door, I should be fine," your words fizzled out near the end, sounding like a near wheeze of air. "Well, wish me luck, Charlie." 

**_Cut._ **

The camera bounces as you bound up the front porch and knock a couple of times on the front door. Your hand was visibly shaking this time; whether from fatigue or fear, that's up for interpretation. In just a few moments, it's Dodger that opens the door, "hey."

"Heeey," your greeting is drawn out, head wobbling side to side," we partying here now?" 

"uh, last time i checked, yeah," he blinks, a brow quirked, "but, you seem kinda nervous. something wrong?"

You sighed, "Yeah, I just wanna sit down and eat, and ... eat. I just want it to be normal." As you're speaking, it's very important to note that Dodger's slowly lifting up his phone. You noticed and your shoulders sag. 

You shake your whole body and say, "No, please! Not another Vocaloid song." 

"heheh, relax, kid. i'm not a fan of vocaloid," he waves off your concern. There are five seconds of silence as the two of you stare at each other, then he fully lifts his phone up and presses a button. 

The first five notes of the _Benny Hill_ theme song play. 

**_Cut._ **

You're muttering; the only audible emotion was confusion. 

"What the ... I thought it was illegal to have that many minks? Like, I thought there were laws and stuff against it. Like, I'm pretty sure PETA's gonna come to nuke this neighborhood after I upload this." A loud screech scrapes across the asphalt, momentarily startling you out of your daze, and the camera snaps up from the hoard of minks. 

"OH, MY GOD! HE HAS A GUILLOTINE! BRO, I THINK HE'S ACTUALLY GOING TO KILL ME," the camera is repeatedly zooming in and out dramatically, "What the fuck, what the fuck, what the - "

Onyx's loud yelling cuts you off, "OH, DON'T WORRY ABOUT THAT! I'M ONLY USING THIS DEVICE FOR THE CONVENIENT HOLES AT THE BOTTOM. ALSO, I'M PRETTY SURE THAT IT'S BEEN PERMANENTLY DEACTIVATED!"

After a couple of moments of silence, the blade falls. 

Then, more than likely sparked by your knee-jerk reaction, the camera unceremoniously fell forward as your body toppled down the roof of the house. You were wailing really loudly, the audio slightly muffled and covered up by all the other various noises sliding against the speakers. Fortunately, the entire house was swarmed by hundreds of minks, so you landed a pretty cushioned blow. Your body bounced like you had been thrown into a ball pit, the last thing the camera was able to see was the lens by filled by minks wriggling like worms over it before darkness. 

**_Cut._ **

Now flat against the belly of the guillotine, head and hands locked into the holes, you deadpanned at the camera. The basement was barely lit, but the camera was still able to catch the twin set-up to the other two houses of traps. Except, this time, they were all very sleek and monochromatic. 

"Well, at least he was nice enough to put the camera in front of me," you sighed, "if the trend continues ..." You shimmied your body just a bit, successfully lifting the top bar and pushing it up just enough that you could free yourself. The wood clacked together loudly as you shifted, tossing both legs over the side and standing. You circled around the guillotine, grabbed the camera, and said, 

"Hmm, whatever, that was pretty easy -" you're cut off as the blade finally slices down. "... well, that was a little too late."

Then, instead of dwelling on how close you had been to decapitation, you decided to do a brief scan of the basement. It looked like the other two, if not cleaner and definitely sharp. Actually, there didn't seem to be anything ... Wait, were those a bunch of mirrors lining the wall? You panned the camera down them one by one, but on the last you, it was noticeably different. That one seemed to be a funhouse mirror, with the weird warbled reflected. You chuckled once, shrugging, seeing your reflection so distorted. 

Unfortunately, you blinked. 

Now staring back at you was Onyx. 

Within a second, you had bolted forward towards the stairs, leaping over all of the traps and scrambling up each step. Whenever you pushed the door - note, it was _still_ silent - open, you didn't hear Onyx wail like the other two. Confused, panting, you flung the camera around to locate him. 

"Weird, normally they'd start giving chase by now," and then, suddenly, from behind you, 

"ALWAYS EXPECT THE UNEXPECTED, **HUMAN."**

You scream.

**_Cut._ **

This time, instead of sort of -cycle, Onyx was chasing you around while proudly standing on a Segway; this, like the others, last for four hours. 

**_Cut._ **

[ATTEMPT FOUR; the chord is like a screech.]

"Guys, I really didn't want to go today, I _really_ didn't," your eyes momentarily rolled into the back of your head, "but, I mean, there's no way they can hold out until the very last house. Right?" You look absolutely wrecked; it looked like you hadn't showered in a couple of days, there were dark bags under your eyes, and your complexion was paled and slightly haunted. Barely on the screen, there was a crunched up notecard held tightly in your balled fist. 

"I - I ... I j-just... I just ... I -"

**_Cut._ **

As you approached Remy and Rudolph's house, you noticed that Rudolph was already standing directly in the threshold. His hands were in his pockets, a lazy grin sprawled across his features. It looked like he was disassociating, staring off into nothing, and that made your gait skip a few steps. You hobbled, trying to catch yourself. Okay, rationally think this out - Rudolph's probably just standing there, waiting. He's probably just going to greet you and then you'd get to eat. 

So, with a slight wave and an exhausted smile, you trekked up the porch and stopped a few steps away from Rudolph. Your mouth parted, ready to greet him and inquire about the barbeque - only for Rudolph to quickly interrupt you and speak first. 

"i held him back last time, kid," his grin widened, bracing his arm against the doorframe and leaning close to you. What ... what did that mean? "this time, you're free game." 

Horror struck your features as you suddenly realized what he was insinuating; your heart missing a beat as Rudolph retrieved one of those checkered, monochrome flags that you see at races. He winked, snapping a finger-gun, and then dramatically dropped simultaneously both his arm and flag down the threshold.

Within seconds, you heard the sound of a racecar being perfectly imitated and the camera caught a brief flash of Remy in the _Crazy Frog_ pose. 

**_Cut._ **

Once again, the scene had you taking a nice shot of the ground from the roof of a house. It panned around, taking stock of the entire army of small, white chickens. There was nothing said, just complete and absolute silence as the camera slowly rolled back up and turned around to face you. Atop your head, sitting perfectly still, was a chicken. 

After you heaved the heaviest and longest sigh known to existence, the camera shifted around and focused on Remy. He was perfectly carrying a giant log with a strangely sharpened tip hooked underneath one of his arms, proudly bounding forward. 

You arched a brow and called out, "Hey, why are you carrying a log? That's not going to do anything." 

"HA! YOU HAVE BEEN THOROUGHLY JAPED! THIS IS NOT A MERE LOG, BUT INSTEAD A STAKE - TO WHICH I WILL TIE YOU TO," he responded cheerfully, closer. 

"Are you going to burn me at the stake?" you wailed back, no fear lacing your tone. Only exhaustion. 

"OF COURSE NOT! I DON'T EVEN HAVE ANY MATCHES," Remy quipped, smirking victoriously. But then, from his pocket, fell a box of matches. The two of you shared a glance, looked down at the box, and then back to one another. 

"UH, W-WELL! I DON'T HAVE ANY LIGHTER FLUID, SO IT WOULDN'T BE THAN A CANDLELIT SIGIL!" Remy tried to brush the matches off, ... only for a container of lighter fluid to fall from his other pocket. 

_..._

And then Remy positioned the stake as if he were going to use it like a pole-vault. 

**_Cut._ **

The camera was placed on a dinky, little table; its lens catching your body tied up against the stake in a basement. You were blankly staring forward with a dead look etched across your face - it didn't even look like you were breathing. But, suddenly, out of nowhere, the ropes fell. You blinked, and then blinked again, before glancing down to your torso. 

"What the ... ?" your head tilted over to the side, irises briefly scanning the basement, "I didn't even move. What point are they trying to prove?" It was obvious that you were muttering to yourself, but with a sigh and a shrug, you stalked forward and reached for the camera. Before you could snatch it up, however, Remy suddenly appeared from the shadows. 

You didn't even flinch. 

"NORMALLY I WOULD WAIT A BIT LONGER, SEE HOW WELL YOU AVOID TRAPS AND THE LIKE," he pauses for effect, "BUT INSTEAD, I WISH TO APPROACH YOU NOW TO GIVE YOU THESE!" Then, without another second, Remy held up both of his hands to show you whatever was there. 

"Moon-Bounce shoes? Why would I need those?" you queried, tone flat. 

"OH! WELL, I FIGURED IT WOULD BE FAIR IF I **LEVELED THE PLAYING FIELD."**

**_Cut._ **

You're panting, face sweaty and hair clinging to your drenched forehead. 

"These suck," huff, the camera pans down to the shoes strapped to your feet as you bounce forward jerkily, "these suck." 

Then, the camera moves back up to capture your face in the frame. In the background, Remy is hopping after you on a pogo stick while looking rather content. 

**_Cut._ **

[ATTEMPT FIVE; the chord is so high that it clips out the speaker.]

Unlike the other four times you ventured to your neighbors' houses, you didn't say a single word. Instead, the camera was solely focused on your face as you headed for your destination: Blaise and Russet's house. There's a visible frown tugging down the corners of your mouth, but it only seems to worsen as you finally arrive on the scene. 

The camera carefully pans down to the ground, your feet just one step away from the walkway that leads to their home. A few moments pass, silent, but you eventually emitted a drawn-out sigh. Lifting your leg, you shifted forward and took a step. 

Then, suddenly, what sounded like the high-pitched wailing of violins cried out. It startled you so much that you appeared to do a perfect backflip without so much as bending your knees; your hair didn't even move a fraction, either. 

"What was that? It sounded like something you'd hear in a horror film," and then you tried to take another step. _Reeee._ Take your foot off, put it back on. _Reeee._ Take your foot off again, put it back on again. _Reeee._ Each time you tried to take a step forward, it became curter and almost as quick as lightning. This process continued on for at least one more minute. 

"Okay, fine, I'm going!" despite the violins, you stomped forward and grimaced. It was only then that you noticed that the front door was all the way open, the inside of the home completely pitch-black. Shaking your head, you decided to ignore as you marched up the front steps and hesitated by the door. 

No, you weren't going to do this anymore. You were hungry, tired, and exhausted. So, without further ado, you waltzed in ... only for the door to slam shut behind you. 

"Seriously, guys? Come on, be more original than that," you said to silent house. There wasn't a single creak or peep, but after a moment of glaring daggers into the darkness, the front door opened rather apologetically. It even released a tiny, little whine. You huffed, pivoting around on your heel and walking back out of the house. The moment you were halfway across the front porch, you heard footsteps behind. Your camera shifted to focus on your face, your expression hard and unreadable before you finally nodded to yourself in resolve.

"Bring it on."

**_Cut._ **

You're Slav-Squatting on the roof, mimicking the crab-rave dance; which, as the camera briefly flashes down, shows that an entire army of small, white crabs is doing it along with you. Your face is red, you're out of breath, but you're chanting and cheering.

"WOOO! I believe in you, Blaise! Come on, whoo, whoo, whoo! I know you can do it! Hurl that thing up here; come get me, bro!" 

Blaise was now in the frame, walking backward as he carted an iron maiden along. He spared you a concerned glance, briefly wondering if you had gone completely bonkers before shaking that look off and responded, "HOLD ON! THIS THING ISN'T AS LIGHT AS IT SEEMS!" 

"NO, COME ON! I know that you're going to get up here anyway, so let's get this over with," then, without another second wasted, you ripped your shirt off and twirled it around above your head, "WOOOAH! I'M NOT AFRAID TO DIE TODAY!"

Faltering, covering both of his sockets with his hands, Blaise chastised you, "AH! HUMAN, EXPOSURE! PUT YOUR SHIRT BACK ON!" 

Then, instead of doing what Blaise asked, you sprinted forward on the gablet and rocketed for him. 

"AHHHH!"

**_Cut._ **

Your phone's flashlight is the only source of light as you're currently stuck inside the iron maiden. There's a manic smile prancing up to your eyes, your fist pounding in the air as your entire body is bobbing up and down. The song _Hey Ya!_ by the Outkast is, somehow, playing in the background. This continues on for a few more moments before you released a loud 'KYAH' and karate-kick the door open. 

Once you're standing in the basement, you bend forward and retrieve a whoopee cushion. You don't even look as you pelt it to some random point in the basement; there's a surprised 'NYEH'. 

"AH, HUMAN. I'M IMPRESSED, YOU FOUND ME," Blaise stepped forward into the light, "AND YOU DIDN'T EVEN HAVE TO LEAVE THE BASEMENT!" You didn't even offer him a response. Instead, you angrily stalked toward him with that deranged smile still plastered across your face and paused in front of him. 

Shoving the camera straight into his confused and startled features, you whispered, "let's just **cut to the chase."**

**_Cut._ **

Unlike the other four, it is Blaise that is running from _you._ He is sitting in a little red wagon, the handle pulled up. It appears to be rolling without any assistance from anything; doing perfect donuts. You're chasing after him while brandishing one of the airhorns from the basement, honking it each time you take a step. 

You finally won. 

**_Click._ **

[The outro is a segment of one of the little, white dogs sleeping. He's drooling, twitching a bit, and there are a few Z's leaving his head.]


	4. The BBQ - Finally.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had to cut it off there, guys, or else you would have seen me projectile vomit all over that intricate dance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is my Tumblr!  
> \- [My Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/sabelisajacques)  
> I have the outfits for the Classic brothers up, next up is the Underswap bros!

_**Click.** _

"I know that the majority of you believed that I had been felled and turned clinically insane the last vlog, but I assure you that I am actually fine now." 

Your face flushed a bright white for a moment as the camera snapped and refocused itself, automatically lowering the exposure as it adjusted. You smiled, fluttering your eyes slightly, and offered a singular wave. 

"It's been a full week. And, after that entire escapade, I feel like they've run out of ways to chase me; so, I hope that means that I've been fully initiated to be able to finally eat," your hand cradled your chin thoughtfully, a hum ringing in the back of your throat as you shambled about out of view in search of something. "They all gave me 'congratulations' cards. Well, all of them except Blaise. I actually received a 'You win!' card with the complete lyrics to _Cabinet Man_ by Lemon Demon on the other side with him. See, look." You then lifted your arm up, a slightly crumpled notecard curved in the center as the camera focused onto it. There, in a really tiny grade font that resembled Bree Serif, was every single word to that song. 

"Ah, well, enough about that," you flung the card over your shoulder, "Anyhow, each respective brother of the ones who chased me must have felt bad or something. They brought me an Easter Basket filled with ketchup, a half-eaten bag of Spicy Lays chips, two-year-old expired circus peanuts, a flat Club Soda, and ... shoe polish?" This time, whenever your arm reached back down and shifted, a wicker basket filled with those previously mentioned items were shoved inside. 

"I think they were trying to make up for the fact that I couldn't really go grocery shopping or even make my own meals while being hunted," your voice pitched up at the end, the tone completely confused but slightly grateful, " I appreciate it, but I don't think they quite grasp what humans eat. Hmm, maybe the longer I'm friends with them, the better they'll get at handling human things - and vice versa." 

You sighed wistfully, looking past the camera. 

"It's time to chow down ... maybe. Huh, unless they force me to hunt for my own food. Gah, I just love these skeletons." 

_**Cut.** _

The camera bounced along with each step you took, Sans and Papyrus' house the only thing in view. 

Behind that, the skies were as clear as could be - not a single cloud in sight, just a pretty blue hue. There were rays of sunshine twirling down to the ground and casting a warm glow on everything; the perfect kind of weather for a grill-out. After the camera did a full panorama of the sky, it angled back down slightly towards the house. The view wasn't necessarily on the exterior of the house anymore, instead, it tilted slightly to be able to get a better glimpse into the backyard where the barbeque was taking place. Outside, there were several grills strategically placed around the few benches there. All of the lids were open, a couple of bags of charcoal slumped against the side of one of them with a bottle of lighter fluid directly next to that. Then, on one of the tables, was all of the different types of meat splayed out. 

After the camera halted on the food, the walking also stopped. 

"What the ... I don't think, hold on," you didn't finish your thought, only trailing off into mumbles as you resumed walking up to the front door. You marched up the steps as to announce your presence early and then paused a stride before the door, fist poised in the air as you dropped the camera back down around your neck. Then, without any further ado, you knocked. 

The door creaked open with a baritone, "heya, kiddo. what's crack-a-lacking?" 

You offered a pleasant smile, "Hey! Finally glad to actually be able to come here and eat this time, ... right?" 

"yeah, heh, no weird chase scenes this time," Sans shrugged carefreely, "the others are already here, so i'd hate to disappoint. so, come on in." With that, Sans waved you in with a gesture of his hand and stepped out of the way of the threshold. Nodding your gratitude, you moved inside and politely closed the door behind you. 

"Cool, I assume that you guys are going to cook the food now?" you queried as Sans dipped his skull once in response. "Ah, well, then ... I have just ... one question." 

"ask away, kid," Sans quirked a winged-brow at you. 

"Well, this isn't meant to sound rude or anything because I really appreciate that you guys invited me over, but," you paused, inhaling and nervously averting your gaze, "when was the last time you brought the meat inside? Refrigerated it? Like, I'm pretty sure that I've been seeing the same packages out on your lawns every day for the past five days ... shouldn't the meat be, er, I don't know, spoiled?" 

Sans didn't respond. Instead, he just blankly stared at your face as you shifted around from foot to foot awkwardly. You hope that the question didn't offend him, but it was definitely something you had noticed. The food in the backyard had all the same labeling and packaging of the stuff you'd seen in each lawn every day that you had been chased by the more unhinged of the brothers. And, unless that food was monster food, then it _needed_ to be refrigerated. 

But, after all of your nervous fretting - his left socket blinked, and then his right one did. 

"come on into the backyard, i'm sure paps'll love to see ya," Sans did not answer your question. 

He lazily pivoted around on his heel, both of his hands shoved into his pockets, and started stumping further back into the house. Lifting up the camera by a couple of inches and glancing down to it with a wide rictus grin plastered across your features, you followed him. 

You took a moment to examine the interior of their house: in the corner of the living room, there was a navy blue recliner just a few inches away from a flat-screen television; the floor was a multi-colored, shaggy carpet - except there was a singular square of hardwood exactly where the recliner was; the walls were a friendly peach color; and, finally, there were a bunch of paintings of bones and spaghetti around the vicinity. All in all, just a little eccentric, but nothing too outrageous. 

It didn't take long to walk through a slim hallway back into a clean-looking kitchen, one with a circular table with high chairs in the center. There was a sliding door on the farthest wall, which offered a clear view to the other skeletons already meandering about outside. Sans was there waiting for you, having already opened it just halfway, and grinned at you with a mischievous twinkle glinting in his sockets. You thanked him, stepping out into the yard, only to hear a very loud ricochet and then a yell of anguish as Onyx suddenly nose-dived for your body.

"THE SPECIAL CHERRY TOMATO!" 

_Bling!_

_Crash!_

**_Cut._ **

"What was so special about that cherry tomato, anyway?" you rubbed the center of your forehead in a soothing manner. The moment you had stepped outside, there had been a cherry tomato pelted straight at you and then Onyx's thin and sharp frame had sliced through yours. 

"NEVER MIND THAT; IT'S SPECIAL, I NEED IT," Onyx scrambled a bit, the tips of his phalanges raking the dirt as he tried to grab the fruit. He finally succeeded with a yelp of, "A-HA! NOW I MAY PROCEED TO HOUSE IT INSIDE MY EAR CANAL!" Then, even though your lips parted to ask him to clarify, Onyx proceeded to shove the cherry tomato into the side of his head. Instead of going inside as he had originally hoped, it smushed into a thin layer of pulp and squirted juice out everywhere - a little bit of it even splattered against his cheekbone and nasal ridge.

"OH, BOTHER! IT COMPLETELY SLIPPED MY MIND THAT MY EAR CANAL IS TOO SMALL TO HOUSE THE SPECIAL CHERRY TOMATO!" 

"Oh, that's a ... shame?" you tried to reconcile with him, but Onyx had already leaped to his feet and wiped the guck off his face. 

"FORGET THE CHERRY TOMATO, THERE ARE OTHER INGREDIENTS THAT I MAY USE TO CONCOCT MY MEAL WITH," and with that, Onyx was off. Your eyes fluttered a couple of times, brows furrowed together, and snapped wide open whenever a gloved hand was held in front of your visage. 

"I WANT TO SEE THAT CUTE LITTLE SMILE," there were sparkles and four blue roses surrounding Papyrus, "ERM, I MEAN - HELLO!" You accepted his hand, feeling him pull yourself back into a standing position almost effortlessly. 

"I appreciated that, also, hello to you, too," you greeted, smile returned full force by Papyrus' gentlemanly help, "It's glad to finally see you again - especially now that you're not chasing me." 

Papyrus faltered, blinking at you with wide sockets, "OH! DO YOU ... PERHAPS ... PREFER TO BE CHASED BY ME, THEN?" He eagerly made to take a step forward, but - thankfully with your flailing - Sans jumped in and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. 

"bro, the fire's starting to build, now's the perfect time to cook your spaghetti dogs," Sans then gestured with a tilt of skull toward the singular grill that was being licked with flames, growing steadily more out of hand the longer it was left unoccupied. Papyrus jumped up in the air by at least a foot as he turned around and madly dashed back to it, leaving you to bite his dust. You blinked, then exaggeratedly swiveled your head to the side to meet Sans' gaze. 

"Thanks, ... again?" Sans shrugged you off. 

"eh, it's no big deal, just figured you're too fatigued to run after that whole 'being chased for a week' thing" he then smirked at you. Sans looked like he was going to say something else, but then suddenly, a strange-looking tentacle wrapped around his ankle. Then, as you stared with a slightly abhorred expression, he was flipped completely upside down and began to spin around like a ceiling fan. When your eyes glanced up towards the tentacle and traced down the appendage to the owner, you were _not_ expecting the giant, mutant, alien, space squid. 

"Woah, Sans! Ah, do you need ... uh, help?" you asked, slightly weary and not really ready to lose the opportunity of food, as you leaned back. Sans was awkwardly dangling, arms and one free leg splayed out in front of him - his expression hadn't changed at all. 

"nah, sometimes this happens. he lives in one of the grills and helps out with food from time to time," Sans, as he was spinning and finally facing the other skeletons, called out, "hey, sunny! how's that fly-swatter comin' along?" You glanced off to the side, brows furrowed in concern, and noticed Sunny waving exaggeratedly. 

"I'M ON IT!" Sunny proclaimed, hands on his hips, as he reached behind him and retrieved a fly-swatter from out of nowhere. Then, with a bright expression lighting up his features and an eager smile, Sunny bounded for the space squid with the swatter posied proudly in the air. 

**_Cut._ **

As you waited for all of the more energetic of the brothers to prepare the food, you had been mindlessly chatting with Dodger and Rudolph. But, during the middle of your conversation over _La La Land_ and how cool it would be to drive around to find all of the locations it was shot at, you happened to glance at Papyrus to notice something horrific. After he placed all of his dogs on the grill, he then squeezed an entire bottle of lighter fluid into the grill. You could only blankly stare in mild interest as he lifted up a match, struck it against the side of the box it came from, and then flicked it into the center of the grill. Then, you blinked once whenever the entire grill was swallowed with a towering inferno for exactly two seconds before it winked out. 

After it died, Papyrus scooted the dogs off the grill and onto a platter. 

They were perfectly cooked, adorned with cute little black lines down the backsides. 

Your attention then shifted on over to Onyx, who was furiously banging his head back and forth. For a moment, you wondered what song he could possibly be listening to, but that train of thought was interrupted as he leaned forward and reached for his forehead. Then, no matter how horrifying it actually was, Onyx cracked open his head and an entire Ceasar salad tumbled out into the giant purple bowl on the table. He stood up, put the top of his skull down, and it fused together without even leaving a single trace that it had ever happened. 

Shaking your head, trying to get that terrifying experience out, you glanced at Remy. 

He was standing just a few feet down from Sunny, fiddling with what appeared to be a Play-Doh food maker. It was bright and colorful, and there were several containers of the dough circling the maker with all of their lids off. Remy was pressing his fingers into whatever substance was in the maker, assumedly trying to shape it correctly, and then slammed the lid down. Then, in a way, it resembled a waffle iron with the way it suddenly began smoking. He tapped his foot along to some inaudible rhythm, his free hand on his hip, before the maker dinged and he opened it. Remy reached for a spatula and a plate, placing it a little lower than the maker, and began sliding whatever he made onto the plate. 

Chips. He made chips. 

Remy had perfectly and successfully created real chips from Play-Doh. 

Humming uncomfortably, your focus then shifted to Sunny. In front of him, it appears as if there were just a bunch of pre-made tacos that hadn't been cooked yet. He was carefully measuring ... baking soda into several portions before he emptied them into a couple of cups sitting in front of the plate. After he was finished with that, he grabbed the cup and then began to softly shake it as he sprinkled it over all of the tacos. Then, even though your stare was imploring, the tacos began sizzling as if they had just been freshly pulled off the skillet. 

You really didn't want to think about it. 

Finally, hoping for some sort of normalcy from Blaise, your irises bounced down towards his frame ... only to see him standing above a giant cauldron. Blaise was using a long and thin pole to swirl around the bubbling liquid, scrutinizing it with a slit gaze as he continued to toss in various ingredients. You're fairly certain that you just watched him toss eye of newt in there right then. This continued for a few moments, just this off-hue shade of light green steam billowing around Blaise's skull before he released a loud 'NYEH'. Blaise grabbed an over-sized ladle and a bowl, then he scooped out some liquid from the cauldron and poured it into the bowl. 

Blaise had made dip. 

Of course. 

With the eye of newt in it. 

_**Cut.** _

You were sitting at the table, having finally grabbed yourself a plate of food with the others. There had suddenly been a lot more food than the other five had made, so you figured that the lazier ones of the brothers made them whenever you hadn't been looking. But, you had made sure to try to get at least a little bit of everything that was available just so that you didn't appear rude. 

Crush was sitting directly in front of you, Remy to your left and Onyx to your right. 

You swallowed the bite of food in your mouth and smiled at Crush, "So, ... how long have you guys been living here?" 

Crush shrugged, twirling the stick of the lollipop settled between his teeth, "dunno. five, six, maybe seven ... eight, yeah, eight." 

"Eight what?" you leaned back slightly, confusion lacing your features, "Days, weeks, months, years?"

"... definitely eight and a half," Crush then moved the lollipop to the other side of his mouth as he fixed you with a serious stare. "better question: how long have _you_ been living here?" 

"What!" you threw your arms into the air, "You guys saw me move in a week ago. What are you talking about?" 

...

_"who are you?"_ Crush didn't even wait for you to respond. He just reached down below the table and started pushing something, revealing that he had been in a wheelchair this entire time. His hands wrapped around the wheels as he pushed them in small bursts, rolling all the way back until he hit the fence. Then, without further ado, he slumped over. 

You stared at Crush for a moment before your attention shifted over to Sunny, of whom happened to already be staring directly at you. 

"Uh, is something the matter with him?" you asked Sunny in a slightly concerned tone, occasionally glancing over to Crush as you queried. Sunny didn't look bothered, he only lackadaisically shrugged and beamed at you. 

"HE'S DRUNK!"

You blinked. 

"But I haven't seen him drink a single alcoholic beverage this entire time? He didn't seem drunk earlier whenever I spoke to him," you sputtered, one of your brows arched as you awaited Sunny's response. His expression didn't falter in the slightest - if anything, it seemed to grow terser. 

Then, in a voice that was a lot more bass-boosted than it originally had been, Sunny repeated, 

**"HE'S CLEARLY DRUNK!"**

**_Cut._ **

After that eccentric encounter, you had shifted down one of the benches to sit with Blaise and Russet. 

The conversation with them was filled with complete and utter nonsense; Blaise discussing various torture methods and what traps would be best to snatch you the next time he chased you, Russet spouting off a bunch of really bad one-liners and then asking for your opinion on various people on his TInder account. It had been pretty chill - especially after Blaise had praised you on your excellent hunting skills. You ... didn't know if you should feel pride about managing to snag some friendships out of the whole ordeal or worry if Blaise would want a rematch. 

Either way, those two brothers had been fun to talk to; but, as the conversation slowly veered off into silence, you couldn't help yourself from asking, 

"I notice you guys have sharp teeth," you prop yourself up on your elbow, "the majority of you don't. Is there any particular reason why your universe made them that way?" Blaise was the one to respond, his index phalange thrust into the air as a proud smirk curved his teeth. 

"WELL, THAT IS BECAUSE EVERYONE IN OUR UNIVERSE IS GENETICALLY HALF TIGER!" 

"What," you faltered, sputtering slightly, and glancing between the two, "But why? Also, don't you figure that you would get more features from the tigers besides just really sharp teeth? Like, stripes, fur, ears, stuff like that?" 

"OH, WE DID!" was the only thing Blaise quipped back. You blinked several times, one of your brows arched. 

"Such as ... ?" Blaise's smirk widened, so you realized that he probably wasn't going to answer your query. So, even though it more than likely wasn't a good idea, your gaze flickered on over to Russet. His expression was completely blank, bored almost. He lifted up his arm, then he flopped his hand face down with his phalanges curled. 

"nyah." 

The footage streaked as you ran away very fast, Russet's gruff, baritone voice calling out in the background behind you, 

"no, wait! he made me do it!"

**_Cut._ **

It didn't take long for your first plate to be cleared, but that didn't mean that you weren't still hungry. 

Whenever you pushed yourself up to your feet, Rudolph had been the one to accompany you on the walk over to where the rest of the food was. The two of you joked a bit, doing a few shimmies as you walked, but then you glanced directly as that singular orb bouncing around in his left socket and couldn't help but feel curiosity consume you. 

"Hey, Rudolph," he angled his skull down to your height and it was just now that you realized that he was so menacingly tall. 

"yeah, kid?" you inhaled sharply as you waved the hand that wasn't clutching your empty plate about. 

"I've noticed that your nickname is Rudolph," you began softly, head tilted to the side, "but I was wondering why. I mean, the original story to Rudolph is that he has a glowing red nose, but you only have a glowing red eye? Like, that doesn't bother me, I was just curious who thought of it?" Then, with his blown-out pupil staring directly at your face for a few tense moments, Rudolph fluttered his sockets a couple of times as he leaned back. 

"ah, well, fuck me, i guess," then, after exaggeratedly shutting both of his sockets, he reopened them.

No longer was that red orb in his left eye, but, instead, in his nasal cavity. 

...

That looked like the single most painful thing ever. 

So, with an awkward chuckle, while rubbing the back of your neck, you excused yourself as you shuffled forward towards the food tables. 

**_Cut._ **

Whenever you reached the table and scoured the platters for something to catch your eye, your gaze landed on the perfect slab of meat; a steak, medium-rare, and absolutely drenched in spices and sauce. There was a grin tugging up the corners of your mouth as your arm stretched outward, about to go ahead and help yourself, until ... another bony hand landed on top of yours. 

"HUMAN," your eyes drifted upward to see Remy's friendly visage staring down at you, "I HAVE ALREADY CALLED DIBS ON THIS PIECE OF MEAT AND SO, BY THE LAW OF DIBS, I WILL NOW -" He did not finish his statement. Instead, Remy grabbed your hand and lifted it along with his own. Your eyes widened momentarily in shock as your arm barely had time to recoil away as Remy's maw opened wide and his teeth snapped shut down on his own metacarpus. 

Through his muffled mouth, you heard what vaguely sounded like, "OH, HUMAN! I'M A WHOLE SNACK IT SEEMS." 

You couldn't even bring yourself to respond, either. So, with another nervous chuckle and a tiny smile, you slowly backed away from the table ... only to then run into something very stiff. Pivoting around on your axis as quickly as humanly possible, you noticed Sans standing there as still and solid as a tree. There's a saxophone held tightly in his grasp, the mouthpiece was drawn to his teeth, and he just stared impassively at you. 

Any time that you tried to reach forward to snap him out of his disassociative state, he would blow a note. Your brows furrowed; your arm reached out, a note would play, your arm would reach out, a note would play - this continued several more times until your arm fell limp by your side. You stepped back from Sans, ... backing up into something else. You turned, seeing Dodger now behind you. In his hands, and pressed against his face, was a trumpet. 

Your concerned expression doubled, and you quickly tossed a glance over your shoulder to confirm that Sans was still just standing there, and tilted your head. Instead of facing either of them, you angled yourself around to where the two of them flanked either of your sides. Then, glancing between the two, you took a safe step backward. 

But you ran into something _else_. 

When you jerked your body around as fast as lighting, you almost received whiplash. Rudolph was standing there, a trombone to his face. Whenever you stared at him with a dead look, he _whoomped_ one note at you. Shaking your head, hoping to be able to escape this before this trio attempted something, you backed up with a careful gait. 

...

The back of your feet bumped into something and you tumbled back, landing on something that was cushioned but hard at the same time. When you checked, you realized that you had fallen into Crush's wheelchair - but more specifically, his lap. 

"Crush," you screamed, "But I thought you were dead!" 

He had a clarinet in his hands. At your statement, though, he played a small and curt note that basically signaled that you had the wrong answer. 

"Then I thought you were drunk!" you corrected yourself, your brow ridge sore for being furrowed so tightly. Crush played a couple of notes that sounded vaguely of 'you might be right'. 

You almost responded, but Crush held up his hand to silence you and then gestured off to the side with a wave. Now having joined your quartet and completely forming a circle, Russet was standing to Sans' side holding one of those school recorders. As soon as you realized that they were all there, they started playing on their instruments. The song _Mambo No. 5_ by Lou Bega was being made by this mock quintet; but, instead of being able to enjoy this symphony, your body started feeling weightless as you began ascending. 

Your limbs flailed around wildly as your breath left your lungs as you floated, a tight feeling accompanying your chest and almost weighing you down. Your body then took to the skies, spinning donuts over the yard as the music only increased in volume. 

This was completed by Papyrus, Sunny, Onyx, Remy, and Blaise all jumping on to this long log that had suddenly appeared in mid-air with you to begin doing a river dance. 

**_Click._ **

[Russet is the only thing in the frame. The only audio is unfiltered background noise, except for the occasional note he would play on his recorder. It sounded bad - especially because he was trying to attempt to play the song _Ice Cream and Cake_ by the Buckwheat Boyz. He would start, play a couple of notes, mess up, and start over. This would go on for twenty seconds before there was your voice shouting off in the distance, "Hey, has anyone seen my camera?" and Russet's panicked, "oh, shit, gotta go." as his hand covered the screen and it cut to black.] 


End file.
